


The Baby War

by ReginaNocis



Series: Losers Having Babies [1]
Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Beverly Marsh Knows Everything, Discussions of Babies, Eddie Kaspbrak Lives, Eddie Kaspbrak is a Mess, Fashion Designer Beverly Marsh, Losers Club Group Chat (IT), M/M, MANY baby onesies, Pregnancy, Pregnant Beverly Marsh, Richie Tozier is a Little Shit, Richie and Eddie are fathers, Stanley Uris Lives, Surrogate Beverly Marsh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:09:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27625885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReginaNocis/pseuds/ReginaNocis
Summary: It started as a joke. Richie and Eddie’s wedding was beautiful, and it went without a single hitch. Eddie’s vows were beautiful, and they brought tears to Bev’s eyes. Richie’s vows brought tears to her eyes for an entirely different reason, and she’d expected nothing less. She’d danced with them both before the night was over, had kissed each of their cheeks and wished them well, and had watched them ride off into the sunset with the other Losers by her side.One week later, she was in her office designing a unique onesie for her assistant, who was due to have her baby any day. She was just finishing the embroidery when the idea hit her. Once the gift was wrapped and sent off, she sat down with a pen and pad of paper and got to drawing. The completed product was beautiful and absolutely perfect. She left it in a box on their doorstep the morning they were set to return with a short note tucked inside.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough/Stanley Uris, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: Losers Having Babies [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2022410
Comments: 5
Kudos: 55





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This was created with two of my best friends, and a lot of the dialogue for Richie and Eddie was written or inspired by both of them. This story wouldn't exist without them!

**_The Idea is Given_ **

****

It started as a joke. Richie and Eddie’s wedding was beautiful, and it went without a single hitch. Eddie’s vows were beautiful, and they brought tears to Bev’s eyes. Richie’s vows brought tears to her eyes for an entirely different reason, and she’d expected nothing less. She’d danced with them both before the night was over, had kissed each of their cheeks and wished them well, and had watched them ride off into the sunset with the other Losers by her side.

One week later, she was in her office designing a unique onesie for her assistant, who was due to have her baby any day. She was just finishing the embroidery when the idea hit her. Once the gift was wrapped and sent off, she sat down with a pen and pad of paper and got to drawing. The completed product was beautiful and absolutely perfect. She left it in a box on their doorstep the morning they were set to return with a short note tucked inside.

Eddie found it first. He’d left Richie to carry their bags inside while he unlocked and got everything situated after a few weeks of being gone. He’d had some practice at this, since he’d gone on Richie’s last tour with him. He brought the box inside with him and opened if after making sure everything was in order.

As soon as he saw the custom onesie, his face turned bright red. He scrambled for his inhaler, even though he absolutely knew he didn’t need it. Unexpected things still sometimes triggered phantom asthma attacks for him. He almost missed the note in his haste to shove the piece of clothing back in the box and out of sight.

_Welcome home! I thought you may need this in the near future, if you’ve had as much fun as Richie has been bragging in the group chat. Enjoy! You’re welcome. -Bev_

Richie came in just as Eddie was shoving the box into the back of the closet and had his breathing almost back to normal. “Whatcha got there, Eds?”

“Nothing! It’s nothing. And don’t call me that!” Eddie slammed the closet door and stood in front of it, not letting Richie anywhere near the box. He didn’t notice that the note had fluttered to the floor until it was too late. Richie had read it quickly and was more curious than ever.

“Just show me! How bad could it be? Bev would never do anything bad,” Richie pressed, trying to get around Eddie into the closet.

“If you want to sleep in the bed with me tonight, you’ll walk away!” Eddie threatened, crossing his arms. “Let it go. It’s nothing.”

He should have known that wouldn’t work. Richie walked away, but he didn’t let it go. Instead, he pulled out his phone and tried to call Bev. She didn’t answer, so he shot her a text instead.

_To: Bevvie_

_Bev answer your fucking phone! What was it?? Eddie won’t tell me and he’s having an asthma attack._

The reply came after just a few minutes, which probably meant she’d had to stop laughing before she could type it out. Whatever it was, it was definitely going to be interesting.

_From: Bevvie_

_I knew he’d hide it. I made one for you, too, you dork. Check your mail._

Without hesitation, Richie took off for the mailbox. The package inside of it wasn’t as nicely wrapped as the box, but it didn’t have to be for Richie. He tore into it right there in the driveway and immediately started cackling. The onesie she’d made for him was light green with darker green stitching spelling out ‘I have the world’s greatest aunt’ in cursive. It was so very Bev, and the perfect prank. Suddenly, Eddie’s reaction made sense.

Richie walked back into the house carrying the onesie and still chuckling, much to Eddie’s horror. “Oh my god. There’s two of them.”

“You’ve got to admit, she’s creative!” Richie grinned, turning the onesie around to show it off. Eddie shook his head and snatched it out of his hands, walking quickly to shove it in the box with the other one and out of sight.

That should have been the end of it… except it wasn’t. Eddie had rolled his eyes at Bev when they’d seen her next and told her in no uncertain terms that it wasn’t happening. Richie had hugged her tightly and pressed a kiss to her hair, not saying anything to agree or disagree with Eddie. And that told her that a baby might _actually_ be something Richie wanted. The way Eddie’s hand lingered on the onesie when he tried to give it back to her made her think that maybe he wouldn’t be upset to have one, either. And that’s when the plan settled in her mind.

Once a week, she’d set aside a few hours in her office for her own personal projects. And every time that came around, she’d use it to come up with new onesies. Each one was cuter than the last, and they were all completely unique. They came in every color of the rainbow (including rainbow itself) and they were all tailored to Richie and Eddie specifically. Some had sayings about aunts and uncles, some had sayings about having the best dads, and some were just embroidered with cute things specific to her two best friends.

(Her personal favorite was a pale purple one that she embroidered with tiny asthma inhalers. She knew it was one of Richie’s favorites, too, because he actually mentioned it specifically to her in a text after it was found.)

Once she had a decent amount of them, she started hiding them around their house. She waited until she knew they were both out, then used the key Richie had given her to get in, hide the onesies, and get back out as quickly as possible. It became a game that she played with herself, something that she was having probably too much fun with.

She knew from Richie that Eddie always had the same reaction when he found them. He’d turn bright red, inhale deeply, and clench his fists. What he said after usually depended on what the onesie looked like. He’d actually thrown the inhaler onesie at Richie’s face when he’d laughed for too long.

They both confronted her about it at different times, but she played innocent every single time. Richie was endlessly amused by the whole situation, and after the third time she insisted she didn’t know where the onesies might be coming from, he jokingly decided it must be a ghost.

They invited her over for dinner that night, mostly to confront her again about the onesies. She was prepared, of course. Every time one of them mentioned the onesies, she acted completely innocent and confused.

“I’m just saying, its convenient that they started showing up after you gave the first two to us as ‘gifts’. There’s no way you’re not involved,” Eddie told her after the sixth time she’d done that. He was pointing his fork at her, and his expression was more amused than annoyed.

“I’m telling you, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m only responsible for the first two,” she sighed, giving him a wounded look. “Don’t you trust me?”

“Well, if it isn’t you, we must have a ghost,” Richie reasoned, grinning. He hadn’t stopped smiling since they’d sat down, which was definitely part of the reason they were all still in such a good mood. It was impossible to be angry or upset when Richie was so happy. “So I guess… Thanks, Casper!”

Eddie turned his fork on Richie, very obviously trying not to smile. He overcompensated by yelling, of course. “CASPER WAS FRIENDLY, AND SHE IS DEFINITELY NOT! SHE’S EVIL!”

Bev gasped, pressing a hand to her heart in mock offense. “Excuse me, sir! How dare you call me evil! As if I could _ever_ be anything but an angel.”

They both laughed at her, and she couldn’t keep the offended look on her face for more than a few seconds longer. She laughed with them, but she never forgot what he’d said. She really wasn’t offended, but she did plan to retaliate. A few hours alone in her crafting room, and her revenge was complete.

The next onesie was a muted orange with a plate of spaghetti on the front. It read ‘Eddie’s Lil Spaghetti’, and it was left on their dining room table on a plate, with a fork and spoon laid out beside it. She received a picture of Eddie standing in front of the table, his hand covering his bright red face while his other flipped off the camera. She didn’t stop laughing for nearly five minutes.

**_Arguments and Confrontations_ **

****

Three weeks into the onesie invasion, Eddie made Richie sit down to talk. He was trying so hard to stay calm, but something needed to be done. It had started out cute, but it was getting old. He’d rather have an actual conversation than continual hints.

“Richie, why did you never tell me you wanted a kid so bad? Stop making Bev leave hints about it, okay? You’ve never mentioned it before… _Why do you want a kid_?” As hard as he’d tried, the hysteria in his voice had only grown the longer he’d spoken. Richie was looking at him with a mixture of amusement and alarm.

“Me? You think I want to fucking ruin a person? I thought _you_ told Bev to leave the hints!” he was laughing softly, as he always did when he was nervous. Sometimes Eddie found it cute, but this was not one of those times.

“ _Why_ would you think I’d want a baby? I can’t even take proper care of a fucking fish! I tried once. I forgot to feed it. It _died_ ,” Eddie shot back.

At that point, all hopes of a serious conversation were gone. Richie completely lost it, throwing his head back and laughing harder than Eddie had seen in a long time. His laughter was contagious, too. It only took a few seconds for Eddie to join in, finally seeing the humor in this ridiculous situation. It took them a while to calm back down.

“Sounds like we need to have a talk with Bev,” Richie said, wrapping an arm around his husband and pulling him close. Eddie went willingly, leaning into the embrace with a soft smile.

“Yeah. We’ll go visit her tomorrow and ask her to stop,” Eddie agreed. Richie was quiet, which Eddie took to mean that he agreed. He didn’t look up to see the sad set of Richie’s eyes.

It took them a few days to corner Bev again. They ended up setting up a surprise appointment with her secretary and surprising her at work. She smiled when she saw them, relaxing back into her chair as if she didn’t know what was coming.

“I’ve got to admit, you guys are _way_ better than what my schedule said I’d be doing right now. I hate meetings with lawyers,” she told them, pulling a hidden chocolate stash out and offering them both a piece. Only Richie accepted.

“Why would you need to meet with lawyers?” Richie asked, frowning. She waved a hand, brushing the question off easily.

“Nothing important, just patent shit. What’s up, guys?” she replied, biting into her own candy.

“You can stop with the baby clothes,” Eddie told her, getting straight to the point. “We get what you’re doing, and as nice as it is, it’s not going to work. We’re not going to have a baby.”

“Let’s pretend for a moment that I _am_ the one doing this,” she answered, smiling. Eddie’s scoff only made her smile grow. “Why not have a baby?”

“We’re both males, so…” Richie jumped in, glancing over at Eddie quickly. Eddie didn’t look annoyed with him, so he took it as the right thing to say. “Kinda hard to have a baby without the right parts.”

“Adoption is an option, or surrogacy,” Bev pressed, giving him an amused look. Eddie was slowly sinking further into his seat, but he didn’t interrupt.

“Okay,” Richie said slowly, his eyes lighting up at an idea. “If you’ll be our oven.”

Eddie sat up straight immediately, a horrified look taking over his face as Beverly clapped her hands excitedly. “DEAL! Let’s do this!” She was grinning, looking so excited that Richie was going to have a hard time telling her he was just joking.

“Oh no… Oh no. You weren’t expecting her to agree, right? _Right_?” Eddie turned to face Richie, his eyes wide with worry. “What’s going on here?”

Beverly was visibly holding back her laughter now, fidgeting in her seat as she watched them. Richie opened and closed his mouth a few times, unsure of what to say. Then he turned to Bev, clearly about to tell her that it was a joke. She never gave him the chance.

“Oh no, it’s too late now! This is happening! Where’s the turkey baster?” she said quickly, picking up her phone and dialing her assistant quickly, a huge grin across her face.

“Wha- no!” Eddie jerked forward and slapped a hand down on the receiver, disconnecting the call quickly. “This is so wrong! It would be so weird!”

“It’s only weird if you make it weird,” Bev pointed out, hanging up the phone and rolling her eyes. “You’re right, though. A turkey baster is the wrong way to go.”

“I’m more of a traditional guy, if you know what I mean,” Richie chimed in, shooting her an exaggerated wink. Eddie groaned, rubbing a hand over his face.

“You are _not helping_ , Richie,” he snapped, sitting back down. “Bev, no.”

“Bev, yes,” she shot back immediately, crossing her arms. Richie was silently cackling in his seat, being absolutely no help to Eddie at all. He threw his hands up in the air, sitting back with a scowl.

“ _Fine._ Go ahead. You and Richie have a kid. I don’t want to know anything about this. I’m out,” he exclaimed, mirroring Bev’s crossed arms with his own. It was childish, but this whole conversation was ridiculous.

“No, wait! I want it to look like both of us!” Richie said quickly, frowning. He turned his sad eyes on Eddie, knowing his husband couldn’t resist.

“That’s literally impossible, genius,” Eddie sighed, rolling his eyes. His lips tugged into a small smile as he shook his head.

“Mix it!” Richie insisted, completely serious.

“That’s… definitely not how it works. But there is an easy solution!” She smiled as they both turned their attention to her. Richie looked hopeful and Eddie looked resigned, like he knew she wasn’t going to say something he’d like. “Have two babies. One with yours, and one with Eddie’s. See, easy!”

Eddie was shaking his head before she’d even finished the first sentence, but Richie actually seemed to be contemplating it. “No. No. No! NONONONO!”

Richie bit back his laughter, meeting Bev’s eyes with a quick wink. “What do you mean? Just combine it! It’ll be fine.”

“You know, I don’t have it in me to explain science to you. Sure, let’s mix it all together and see what we get,” she replied, catching on quickly. Eddie was staring between them as if they’d both grown a second head.

“You… you understand how stupid that is, right?” he asked hesitantly. “It really doesn’t work the way you want it to work. A baby can’t have both of our DNA, because we’re both men. No amount of mixing anything will change that.”

“Really?” Richie asked. He was pouting, there was no other way to describe the look on his face.

“Yeah, really,” Eddie nodded gently. Richie thought about it for a few seconds before rounding on Bev.

“I didn’t even know that! How are we supposed to raise a kid?” he demanded, raising his eyebrows as if daring her to have an answer. She did.

“Good news: they teach you that in school, honey. You don’t have to know that stuff to raise a kid,” she told him quickly. “Plenty of people become parents with _far_ less knowledge than the two of you have.”

“What makes you think _my_ kid will pay attention in school?” Richie pointed out. She rolled her eyes.

“They will also be _Eddie’s_ kid. Duh. Keep up!” she shot back, gesturing to Eddie. “With the two of you raising them, they’ll be both a troublemaker and a good student, I just know it.”

“A broken kid,” Eddie said quietly, not meeting either of their eyes. “That’s what they would be. Why do you want to do that to a kid?”

Up until that point, Beverly had been joking around with them. She’d been treating the whole thing as a friendly joke between friends, and maybe a gentle nudge in the direction she could see they both wanted to go. Now, though, it was getting personal. She could have told Eddie that his lack of confidence in himself as a parent made her feel like she had _no_ chance at being a good mom someday, but that would just end in shouting and tears. Instead, she tried to keep a level head.

“You literally can’t do worse than our parents, and we turned out fine,” she pointed out, keeping her voice just as soft.

“We’re anything _but_ fine,” Eddie snapped, finally meeting her eyes. She frowned, trying not to get angry.

“You’re right. You’re happily married to the love of your life with a secure job that you like and friends who love you. You’re WAY better than fine,” she answered. She glanced over at Richie, but he shook his head. He didn’t want to get in the middle of this.

“Oh, right. It only took forty years!” Eddie shot back.

“I seriously doubt your children will have the same murder clown problem that we did!” Bev raised her eyebrows, challenging him to disagree.

“The world is full of clowns,” he countered. She rolled her eyes.

“It’s not the same and you _know_ it,” she snapped.

“You _can’t_ know. There is more bad than good in this world, Beverly. What if that thing comes back? It did once. A lot can happen; maybe even something worse. _And,_ us as parents? No way I could do that to a child,” he argued.

Bev took a deep breath but didn’t offer another argument. If they continued the way they were going, they were going to say something that couldn’t be taken back, and she knew it. Instead, she glanced at her computer and sat back in her chair.

“As lovely as this has been, I actually have another appointment in about ten minutes that I need to get ready for. I love you both, you know? I just want you to be happy,” she said softly.

“We know,” Richie chimed in, offering her a small smile. He stood and walked around her desk, giving her a hug. It was a little awkward, since she was still sitting, but they made it work. After a few seconds, Eddie stood and walked around to join the hug.

“We’re not mad. Not really,” he sighed.

“Love you,” Richie told her, taking Eddie’s hand and leading him out of her office.

As soon as they were gone, Bev pulled out her phone and created a new chat that excluded Eddie and Richie. She would make them see how good they could be as parents, one way or another.

**_An Intervention_ **

****

_Bev created the group “Operation: Reddie Baby”_

_Bev added Mike, Bill, Stan, and Ben to “Operation: Reddie Baby”_

**_Bev:_** Guys, I need your help. I know you’ve heard about the onesies I’ve been making for Richie and Eddie, right?

 ** _Bill:_** Yeah, Richie thinks it’s hilarious. He’s been sending pictures of them in the group chat for weeks.

 ** _Ben:_** They’re so cute! You’ve outdone yourself, Bev.

 ** _Bev:_** Aw, thanks!

 ** _Bev:_** But I’m running out of ideas for them. I need good sayings to go on the onesies that are relevant to Richie and Eddie.

 ** _Bill:_** What about ‘Lil Trashmouth’- to go with Eddie’s lil Spaghetti?

 ** _Stan:_** You could make one that just says ‘Reddie’. Make sure you include an ‘R + E’, though. It’ll make Richie smile.

 ** _Mike:_** What about… ‘Official Member of the Losers Club’? It’s got a nice ring to it, and shows that we’ll support them through a baby.

 ** _Ben:_** You made that one with all the inhalers, so what about one that says ‘You take my breath away’?

 ** _Bev:_** Aw, I love that! I love all of those! Thanks, guys. I knew I could count on you. For some reason, they don’t believe they’ll be good parents. This started as a joke, but now I’m trying to prove a point.

 ** _Mike:_** Why wouldn’t they be good parents? I can’t see them being anything other than great.

 ** _Bev:_** Exactly!

 ** _Bev:_** So when they ask if you guys know anything about this new batch, you can’t say anything. Promise?

 ** _Bill:_** As if I want Eddie knowing I’m helping you.

 ** _Ben:_** Yeah… he’s not fun when he’s angry.

 ** _Bev:_** I’ve never been afraid of him. Besides, Richie wouldn’t let him kill me. He’d miss me too much.

 ** _Ben:_** We’d _all_ miss you too much.

 ** _Stan:_** I just don’t want to listen to Richie whine about you being gone. Don’t get killed.

 ** _Bev:_** Love you too, Stan.

Bev had to get more creative in times to leave the onesies after the confrontation in her office. The first one she made and delivered was probably the most personal of this batch. It was a deep shade of red with a single word printed on the front. It read ‘Reddie’ in beautiful cursive, stitched on carefully by her own hand. On one of the sleeves, she’d sewn in a small ‘R + E’ in black thread. She wasn’t sure what the significance was, but she (mostly) trusted Stan. She left it on their bed, folded carefully so that it would appear to just be red until they picked it up.

Two hours later, she received two messages from Richie. The first was a picture of Eddie holding the onesie with a soft expression, no trace of anger anywhere. It made her smile, and she saved it to her phone to send to the chat she’d created. The second message was short and had her smiling just as much.

_From: RichieRich_

_It’s perfect. I don’t know how you knew, but… thanks._

She smiled down at the message for a few seconds longer before sending a quick heart emoji back. It was as close to admitting it was her as she’d go. Then she pulled up her thread with Stan.

_To: Staniel_

_Thanks for the idea. I don’t know where the R + E came from, but they both loved it. It’s the first one Eddie actually looks happy to see._

_From: Staniel_

_It’s not my story to tell. But you’re welcome._

Two days later, she left the second one. This one was a pale blue with an inhaler stitched across the front. It read ‘You take my breath away’ in careful stitching just under the inhaler. She placed it in their bathroom cabinet, right next to the spare inhaler that Eddie kept just in case of emergencies. This time, Eddie was the one who sent her a picture. Richie was laying on the floor, the onesie beside him, as he clutched his stomach and laughed.

_From: SpagEDDIE_

_I hope you’re happy._

_To: SpagEDDIE_

_Oh, I am. I’m glad he’s enjoying it so much._

_From: SpagEDDIE_

_How long is this going to go on?_

_To: SpagEDDIE_

_I don’t know what you’re talking about!_

Almost a week later, she left the third one on their kitchen counter. It was green this time, with a microphone stitched onto one of the sleeves. Across the front, it read ‘Lil Trashmouth’. Underneath the onesie, she left a special gift for Richie. The picture she received quickly became her new contact photo for Richie. In it, Richie was holding up the onesie with a huge grin, and wearing the custom t-shirt Bev had made for him. It read ‘Big Trashmouth’. There was no accompanying message this time.

It took almost a week to complete the final onesie, because it felt like the most important of them all. This was the approval and support of _all_ the Losers, not just her. She chose a plain white fabric, because no other color really embodied all of them at once. Plain black thread spelled out the words, but it just didn’t look finished to her. It took her a while to realize what was missing, and it was thanks to an old photo that her aunt had sent her in the mail.

The completed onesie read ‘Official Member of the Losers Club’ in plain black lettering. Underneath that in smaller stitches, she’d made a perfect replica of Eddie’s cast that he’d had when they were kids, complete with word scrawled across it. The red ‘V’ stood out against the black and white, and it was perfect. She didn’t bother to hide it at all. Instead, she tacked it to their front door. There was no picture or text that day.

That night, the group chat _exploded._

**_Eddie:_** Would you care to tell me why all of you are now _helping_ Bev in her attempt to drive me crazy?

 ** _Richie:_** Don’t you mean ‘us’?

 ** _Eddie:_** I meant exactly what I said. You’re enjoying this too much to be suffering.

 ** _Bev:_** Hey, I haven’t done anything at all.

 ** _Eddie:_** Lie.

 ** _Bev:_** I would _never_ lie to you.

 ** _Eddie:_** Bullshit. I call bullshit.

 ** _Ben:_** Hey now, let’s all calm down. What’s going on?

 ** _Eddie:_** As if you don’t know!

 ** _Mike:_** Why don’t you tell us, just to make sure we know what you’re talking about.

 ** _Eddie:_** You’re all helping Bev make those stupid onesies!

 ** _Bev:_** Firstly, you have no proof that I’m doing anything at all beyond the first two. And they are _not_ stupid, by the way.

 ** _Bev:_** Secondly, even if you _did_ have proof, you can’t prove that any of the others helped in any way. Right, guys?

 ** _Richie:_** Only Stan knows about R + E.

 ** _Bill:_** What’s significant about your initials?

 ** _Richie:_** Only Stan _and Bill_ know about R + E.

 ** _Bev:_** Secrets don’t make friends.

 ** _Eddie:_** You’re one to talk!

 ** _Eddie:_** Even if I believed they didn’t help you with these last ones- which I don’t!- There’s no way they didn’t help you with this very last one.

 ** _Mike:_** Did you like it?

 ** _Richie:_** He cried.

 ** _Eddie:_** So did you! And that’s not the point!

 ** _Stan:_** Then what, exactly, is your point?

 ** _Richie:_** I think what he’s trying to say is thank you. They mean a lot to us, even if we’re not going to use them for what you intended.

 ** _Bill:_** And why not?

 ** _Eddie:_** Not you too.

 ** _Stan:_** Let’s just get this over with, shall we?

 ** _Stan:_** The two of you are idiots. You’ll be great parents someday. If you want that to be today, you’ve got our support. If you want to wait and adopt later, we’ll support that, too. But don’t be bigger idiots than you already are and pretend that you’re not going to be amazing at it. Don’t insult us like that.

 ** _Richie:_** Stan…

_Eddie has left the chat…_

**_A Decision_ **

****

Richie found Eddie sitting in their closet ten minutes later, staring down at the large pile of baby clothes that they’d acquired over the course of a couple months. The ‘Eddie’s Lil Spaghetti’ onesie was on top, and he was stroking the picture of pasta softly. He didn’t look up as Richie leaned against the doorframe, but he did sigh softly.

“They’re right,” he said after a few minutes of silence. “I know they are. I know Bev has been right all along. And it’s not like I _don’t_ want kids. I can see that you want them. I see it every time we find a new Marsh original.”

“Well, yeah,” Richie admitted. “I’ve always kinda wanted kids. But I know I’ve never been responsible enough to be a parent. The two of us together, though… I think we could do it, if we wanted to.”

“I just don’t want to mess up,” Eddie admitted. “You saw what my mom did to me. I grew up thinking everything under the sun was wrong with me, and I never really outgrew that. What if I start seeing illness in this child when there’s nothing there? I can’t do to them what my mother did to me.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” Richie said softly. He pushed off of the doorframe and sat himself on the ground beside Eddie, leaning against him. He took a few seconds to sort through the stack and pull out the ‘Losers Club’ onesie they’d found that afternoon. “And they’ll all be here, too. You know that’s what this means.”

“Yeah,” Eddie agreed softly. “Is this… are we really going to do this?”

“I think we are,” Richie answered, smiling. “Would you like to do the honors?”

“No, go ahead,” Eddie sighed, grinning. He watched Richie pull out his phone and send a quick text.

_To: Bevvie_

_Looks like we’ll be putting a bun in your oven after all, Ms. Marsh!_


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Ms. Marsh, it’s nice to see you again. Your tests came back just as expected, and everything is ready to go. Are you prepared?” she asked, walking over to the cart with her clipboard and a small plastic specimen cup.
> 
> “I’m ready. Are the two of you?” Bev replied, looking towards the soon-to-be-parents. Eddie nodded, and Richie gave her a big grin. She pretended not to notice that Eddie’s hands were shaking and Richie couldn’t stay still to save his life.
> 
> “Lie back in the chair and spread your legs,” the doctor told her. She did it without hesitation, more sure than ever of what she was doing. Looking at Richie and Eddie, she could feel it in her very soul that they deserved this, and she was so happy to be able to give this to them. She’d do it again in a heartbeat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was, once again, co-written by two of my best friends. Without them, there would be no story. They're the Richie and Eddie to my Bev. <3

**_The Conception_ **

The day of the appointment, Eddie blew up her phone. He had more questions than she could keep up with, including ones that would have made any other woman uncomfortable. Bev just smiled and calmly answered each one as quickly as she could while she got ready for the most awkward doctor’s appointment of her life.

_From: SpagEDDIE_

_Okay, but are you SURE you’re ovulating?_

_To: SpagEDDIE_

_Yes, I’m sure. I’ve taken the home tests, and the doctor herself said I would be._

_From: SpagEDDIE_

_Will they test again before they do the procedure?_

_To: SpagEDDIE_

_As soon as we get there, they’ll have me pee in a cup. That’s one of the things they test for._

_From: SpagEDDIE_

_ONE of the things? What the fuck else do they think you have?!_

_To: SpagEDDIE_

_Well, for one, they’re making sure I’m not already pregnant. And before you ask, NO, I’m not. I’m sure. I took one of those tests, too, just for you._

_From: SpagEDDIE_

_Thanks… I think._

By the time Richie’s car pulled up outside of her house, Bev was ready to pull her hair out. But when she climbed in the backseat and Eddie turned to give her a nervous smile, she realized that maybe his questions were just as much a distraction for both of them as genuine concern. She reached forward to squeeze his shoulder and he caught her hand. They didn’t acknowledge the gesture at all the whole trip, but neither of them let go.

The receptionist smiled at them, but Bev could see the strain around her eyes. Great, she definitely recognized them. It didn’t help that Richie already had the biggest grin on his face and immediately opened his big mouth.

“Do you guys do artificial insemination?” he asked, leaning against her desk with a wink. The receptionist rolled her eyes but didn’t comment. She simply pointed towards the waiting room, then went back to her typing. Bev felt a surge of annoyance, which she immediately disregarded. Instead, she offered her own smile.

“Thanks, Janice. You’re the best,” she said sweetly. Then she hooked her arm through Richie’s and pulled him to the waiting room, ignoring the confused receptionist when she tried to correct her name. Bev had seen the name on her badge; she’d chosen to ignore it on purpose.

As soon as they sat down, Bev in the middle, Eddie turned to her and started asking more questions. “Are we _sure_ we want to do this? Like… completely sure? Because you don’t have to go through with this, and we… what if we really aren’t meant to be parents?”

“Eddie,” she sighed. She glanced to Richie for help, but he’d pulled out his phone and was pointedly staying out of it. She got the sense he’d been reassuring Eddie about these very things for weeks now.

“I’m just saying… we don’t have to go through with this,” he said softly, almost shrinking in on himself. She leaned forward to hug him, staying close when it was done. She left her head on his shoulder as she thought through her answer. He kept an arm around her, taking the comfort she offered.

“Whether or not you were meant to be parents really isn’t up to me. But for what it’s worth, I can’t imagine better parents for a child. They’re going to be so loved, so cared for. And you really don’t have to worry about me, sweetie. I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t genuinely want to do this for you. I’m not doubting or second guessing anything at all. I want to be here, and I think you do, too,” she said quietly.

He was silent for a while, thinking through what she’d said. When the nurse called Bev’s name and all three of them stood, he caught her hand again and held her back. “Thank you,” he told her, smiling.

“You don’t need to thank me,” she assured him. “Shall we do this?”

“Yeah,” he agreed, allowing himself to be led back to the room. The nurse was setting up the cart for the doctor, and Richie was eyeing the instruments on it. As soon as the nurse stepped away, he reached forward to grab the speculum and Bev smacked his hand away.

“Don’t touch,” she hissed, glaring at him. He gave her a wounded look, and she melted instantly. “Just… they have to be sterile or they can’t use them, okay? No touching the tools.”

“Fine,” Richie conceded. Then he turned to the nurse and gave her a big smile. “We’re making a baby today, Carol!”

She ignored the use of the wrong name, which immediately turned it into a game. “Yes, I’m aware, Mr. Tozier. Ms. Marsh, if you could remove your clothes and put on the provided gown before the doctor joins you?”

“Of course, Linda. I would love to. Boys?” Bev was trying not to laugh as she glanced over at them and gestured for them to turn around. Richie was openly snickering and Eddie just looked resigned. The nurse still didn’t react.

“I’ll need a sample of your urine for a quick examination, and then the doctor will be in shortly,” the nurse continued, pretending that Bev had never spoken. She changed quickly, tying the gown at the back so that it wouldn’t fall off. The nurse handed her a cup and a lid, pointing towards the door in the corner of the room. She left and returned with the sample without another word. Then she hopped up to sit on the exam chair, knowing that’s where she’d end up.

“I’m decent, you can turn around again,” she called. The nurse took the cup from her and turned to leave the room, pausing when Eddie gave her a quiet apology for the two of them.

“Oh my god, please, relax. I can see you working yourself up from over here,” Bev told him when the nurse was gone.

“This is just… it’s fucking crazy,” Eddie admitted, walking closer to her. “I can’t believe you’re actually doing this. It’s gonna change everything, you know? Are you sure of this? Because everything is going to be… just so different. You know that, right?”

“What? Seriously? Oh, fuck…” Richie chimed in, wrapping an arm around Eddie’s waist and bending down to rest his chin on Eddie’s shoulder. “Babe, relax. We know.”

“Richie, I’m _serious_! Do you think we can make it? What about your work? What are we gonna do when you go on tour?” Eddie demanded, turning to scowl at his husband and dislodging him from his shoulder.

“We’ll bring them with us, of course,” Richie said easily. “I already talked to my manager about touring, Eds. I’m not going on any tours for at least a few years, and by then, he’ll be old enough to come with us without much fuss. We can invest in a tour bus or something!”

“We are not raising our child on a _bus_!” Eddie exclaimed, crossing his arms.

“Fine, but we’ve got plenty of time to figure it out. Maybe we should be paying attention to Bev right now?” Richie pointed out. They both looked over at her, and found her grinning at them fondly.

“No, by all means, continue. It’s cute,” she told them. They might have, had the doctor not knocked on the door at that moment.

“Ms. Marsh, it’s nice to see you again. Your tests came back just as expected, and everything is ready to go. Are you prepared?” she asked, walking over to the cart with her clipboard and a small plastic specimen cup.

“I’m ready. Are the two of you?” Bev replied, looking towards the soon-to-be-parents. Eddie nodded, and Richie gave her a big grin. She pretended not to notice that Eddie’s hands were shaking and Richie couldn’t stay still to save his life.

“Lie back in the chair and spread your legs,” the doctor told her. She did it without hesitation, more sure than ever of what she was doing. Looking at Richie and Eddie, she could feel it in her very soul that they deserved this, and she was so happy to be able to give this to them. She’d do it again in a heartbeat.

Three weeks later, Bev was locked in her bathroom staring down at three little plastic sticks. All three had two dark blue lines running down the indicator strip. She grabbed the one closest to her and walked out of the bathroom to the living room, where all of her Losers were gathered and waiting. They all looked up as she approached, various degrees of anxiety in their expressions. She held up the test with a big smile.

“I’m pregnant!” she exclaimed, waving the stick excitedly. The shouts of congratulations were drowned out by the thud of Eddie hitting the floor in a dead faint.

**_The First Month_ **

****

As soon as the pregnancy was confirmed, Bev set up a way for her to work from home. She only went into her office once a week to approve designs and sign off on new policies or approve show locations. It was both a way to make sure she didn’t overwork herself, and a way to make sure Eddie wasn’t stressing about exactly that on top of everything else. Eddie’s stress gave _her_ stress, and that was the last thing they needed.

Her house had become the new clubhouse for all of the Losers. They showed up at random times of the day and night, knowing she’d be home. Sometimes they came with the intention of just checking on her and making sure she didn’t need anything, and sometimes they came when they had a few hours to sit and talk. The only constant was Eddie.

Richie was in and out of her house regularly, showing up every couple hours with something small for her, whether it was a new bottled water that she just needed to try, a pint of ice cream she’d mentioned liking in passing, or a cute little magnet that reminded him of her. It caused more than a few arguments between Richie and Eddie, and much amusement for Bev.

Eddie camped out on her couch and made sure she wasn’t doing too much. He had made charts and diagrams for her describing what her health should be, and what she could or could not eat. He was monitoring the number of times she got up to do anything, and taking things out of her arms if he decided they were too heavy. While he was around, she wasn’t allowed to lift anything heavier than her phone, it seemed. It was both cute and frustrating.

After two weeks of Eddie’s nearly constant presence, she banned him from her house. “Look, I love you, but I’m two seconds from murdering you, and then where will we be?”

“I just want you to be safe! I want everything to go perfectly,” Eddie protested. She sighed, brushing her hair out of her eyes and struggling to remain calm.

“Yes, I understand that. But what I need _you_ to understand is that I am pregnant, not an invalid. I will eat healthy and avoid those foods you’ve listed. I’ll be careful when I’m lifting things, and I promise I’ll wait for help if things are too heavy. Don’t worry, I’m getting plenty of rest. I’ll even make sure someone is with me if I do anything more than walk to the bathroom, okay? And I’ll call you anytime anything at all happens. But I need you to go home now,” she replied gently.

“But-“ Eddie tried. Bev cut him off quickly.

“Go _home_ , or I’m going to make your husband drag you out of my house,” she threatened. “Do you really want my neighbors to witness that?”

“No,” Eddie grumbled, gathering his things. He left without another word, and Bev let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. One month into being pregnant, and she didn’t really feel much different.

**_The Second Month_ **

****

They were back at the doctor’s office. This time, all three of them were too nervous to joke around with the nurses. Both Richie and Eddie had claimed her hands, and she didn’t have the heart to tell them they were squeezing too hard when the ultrasound machine was wheeled into the room. She just squeezed back and hoped for the best.

“Shall we take a look at this baby?” the doctor asked, smiling as she opened the gel. Bev lifted her shirt and allowed the cold gel to be applied to her lower stomach. She shivered, staring down at it for a few extra seconds.

“Yeah, let’s get this show on the road!” Richie exclaimed, starting to get excited. The doctor shot him a quick smile as she flicked the machine to life. The wand was lowered to Bev’s stomach, and the search for the fetus began.

Within twenty seconds, a soft thumping filled the room. “That’s your baby’s heartbeat,” the doctor said softly. “I’ve just about got… there. There’s your baby.”

It was just a blob on the screen, but it brought tears to all of their eyes. Bev tracked every movement with her eyes, reminding herself quickly that she couldn’t touch her stomach right now or it would ruin the image. Richie wiped at his eyes as he watched the little blob, speechless for the first time in his life. Even Eddie was crying, though he’d deny it later.

“Would you like me to print you each a copy?” the doctor asked, pressing a few buttons on the keyboard. Bev and Richie both quickly nodded.

“Yes, please,” Eddie answered for them, smiling softly at the screen still. The doctor printed off the images and handed them to Bev, then packed up the equipment and left to give them a moment alone. As soon as she was gone, Bev pulled her shirt down and wiped her eyes again. She laughed softly when Richie pulled both her and Eddie into a tight hug.

“Be careful!” Eddie said quickly. “Don’t squeeze her too tight!”

It just made them all laugh harder.

Bev ran to the bathroom for the fifth time that day, retching before she’d even reached the toilet. Morning sickness had hit her like a brick, and she was suffering. Richie followed her this time, holding her hair back as she threw up the lunch Eddie had so nicely made for her. She sat back on her heels after a few minutes, wiping her eyes with her palm.

“I hate this,” she groaned, turning to rest her head against Richie’s stomach. He allowed it without a word of protest. “I don’t hate having this child for you, I just…”

“I get it. Puking is _never_ fun,” Richie agreed, stroking her hair soothingly. “Want some water? Maybe a tums?”

“ _She can’t have tums!_ ” Eddie shouted from the kitchen. Bev groaned again, feeling like she really was going to cry. Eddie appeared in the doorway before she could start, handing her a glass. “This is ginger tea. It’s safe for you to drink, and it should settle your stomach.”

“Thanks,” she whispered, taking small sips of it. Her stomach was still queasy, but the tea didn’t seem to be upsetting it any worse. She accepted Richie’s offered hand, letting herself be pulled gently to her feet and led back to the couch. “You guys are the best.”

“An argument could be made that _you_ are the best,” Richie pointed out, adjusting the pillows for her. “You’re doing this for us, after all. I think that means you win the best friend award.”

She grinned up at them, handing Eddie the empty glass when he held out his hand. “Can I point out that you guys thought you’d be bad parents, but you’re parenting me right now? And doing a damn fine job of it, by the way.”

“No, we are not,” Eddie protested immediately, his face bright red. He hurried from the room to wash the glass and didn’t return for several minutes. Richie just sat down beside her and rested his hand on her stomach silently. They’d both taken to doing that in the calm moments.

A few hours later, after Richie had gone to pick up more ginger, Eddie sat down beside her hesitantly. “Did you mean what you said before? About us doing a good job of parenting?”

“I don’t know how much you remember about your dad, but I remember a little bit about my mom,” Bev told him, reaching out for his hand. “She used to take care of me when I was sick. All of the things that you and Richie have been doing for me this past month, she did for me when I was little. And while my father was… not exactly the best, my mother _was_ the best. So yes, I meant it when I said you’re doing a good job. I’ve never doubted you.”

He didn’t respond, and he kindly didn’t mention the tears she had to wipe away. He pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek and let her use him as a pillow. When Richie walked back into the house, it was to find his two favorite people sleeping on the couch, cuddled up together. He took a picture and saved it on his phone, but never mentioned it to either of them. He had _some_ self preservation.

**_The Third Month_ **

****

“How’s our Turkey doing?” Richie called, nudging his front door closed with his foot since his arms were full of groceries. Bev was at their house this time, camping out on their couch and watching Disney movies with Eddie. She’d been more emotional than usual, and when she’d mentioned not wanting to be alone, Eddie had instantly invited her over. She’d shown up ten minutes later, even though she lived nearly twenty-five minutes away. Eddie had started to lecture her, but stopped when he saw the dangerous set of her eyes.

“I’m sorry, your _what_?” Bev demanded, raising her eyebrows as she turned away from The Aristocats.

“Our Turkey,” Richie repeated, grinning. “You know, because of the turkey baster thing in your office?”

“How long have you been waiting to use that one?” Bev asked, starting to smile. Even Eddie was shaking his head fondly. “Because it’s been, like, six months since that happened.”

“Oh, you know, I’ve been planning on using it pretty much since the comment was made,” Richie shrugged, crossing into the kitchen to put all the bags on the counter. “What do we want for dinner?”

“Momma Fetus Grower! The food is ready!” Richie shouted, drawing Bev’s attention away from the movie again. She hit the pause button and let Eddie help her up, even though she really didn’t need it yet. She was hardly showing at all, and had only gained four pounds so far.

(That had been fun to explain to Eddie after their last doctor’s appointment. “What do you mean you’ve only gained two pounds? Shouldn’t you have gained more than that? That can’t be healthy! We need to change your diet, or-“

“Eddie!” Bev interrupted quickly. “Right now, the baby is the size of a grape, okay? I’m honestly surprised I’ve gained two pounds at all. I have the tiniest bump, because the baby isn’t big enough to change me yet. Relax, okay? The doctor would have told us if I wasn’t healthy.”)

Two weeks later, she had a tiny bump, two extra pounds, and an overly clingy Eddie. They exchanged a look at the newest nickname, but neither of them said a word. It would be easier to pretend nothing was happening. And it was a _little_ funny, if she was being honest.

Another week later, they were all lounging by Ben’s pool. Ben hadn’t left her side since she’d sat at the edge of the pool to dangle her feet in the water, and Eddie was hovering in the background- just in case. At this point, she was pretty sure that Eddie was going to have a heart attack before the baby was born.

“I’m just saying, maybe it would be better if you went back to work,” Stan continued, gesturing as he spoke. He was floating in the pool, avoiding the splashes Mike and Bill kept sending his way. Every once in a while a drop would hit Bev and she’d have to reel in her anger carefully. Tiny things were annoying her more and more every day. The nurse on the phone had assured Eddie that it was normal.

“And why is that?” she asked, leaning against Ben. He wrapped an arm around her with a soft smile, kissing her hair.

“You were just telling us yesterday that your assistant keeps mixing up days and times. Your models showed up to the wrong venue last week. I don’t think sitting at a desk is going to hurt your pregnancy,” he replied. They were both ignoring Eddie’s glares behind them.

“You’re probably right… I just don’t want to accidentally overdo it, you know?” she sighed.

“You’re pretty good at knowing your limits,” Ben chimed in. She gave him a smile for his praise.

“Okay, but you’ve also been doing just fine working from home!” Eddie butted in. He couldn’t seem to hold it in any longer. “And if you’re home, it’s easier for all of us to help you if you need us.”

“Relax, sweetie. I’m not going back to work. I might just pop in more often than once a week, that’s all. I’ll get one of you to drive me,” Bev assured him, resisting the urge to roll her eyes.

Eddie opened his mouth to say something else, but it was interrupted by the arrival of Richie with Bev’s requested milkshake. He ignored Eddie’s glare completely as he passed the chocolate and strawberry goodness to Bev, who immediately dipped her finger into it and licked the ice cream off.

“What’s cookin’, Madam Incubator?” he asked, grinning at her. She stiffened, turning her gaze back to him after a few seconds of silence.

“Hmm?” she asked, narrowing her eyes. Richie didn’t seem to notice.

“You know, since you’re incubating our little bean?” Richie continued, still grinning. “Madam Incubator!”

Bev met Eddie’s eyes over Richie’s shoulder and he nodded. She carefully handed her milkshake to Ben and stood, making her way over to Richie’s other side. “And you think that’s a good nickname for me?”

“Well… yeah?” Richie asked, starting to realize something was wrong. “Why wouldn’t-“ He was cut off by both Bev and Eddie reaching forward and shoving him forcefully into the water. It took him a few seconds to resurface, and he was laughing when he did. “Okay, okay. Not that one. Noted.”

After the pool fiasco, Richie had started referring to her only as ‘Momma’. As far as nicknames from the Trashmouth himself, Bev decided that one wasn’t bad. She wasn’t going to fight him on it and end up with something worse. It was a normal Tuesday evening at Bev’s house, and both Richie and Eddie were there with her. She’d gone to work that afternoon, so Eddie wouldn’t leave until she was sleeping peacefully in her bed- it had become the norm for them.

Eddie was cooking something in the kitchen while Bev and Richie watched Friends in her living room. Richie’s hand was rested on her stomach, as usual. They were silent for a while, until Bev let out a loud gasp and stared down at Richie’s hand on her stomach. “Did… did you do that?”

“Do what?” Richie asked, confused. He pulled his hand away, and Bev replaced it with her own quickly.

“Oh my god. Oh my _god_!” she looked up at him with shining eyes. “I can feel them moving.”

Something hit the floor loudly in the kitchen, and Richie’s shocked expression didn’t change as Eddie rounded the doorway with wide eyes and shaking hands. Neither of them said anything for a bit, watching Bev’s hand twitch in surprise every time she felt movement inside.

“You… you can feel them?” Eddie asked faintly, finally moving over to the couch. He stood over them, staring down at Bev’s stomach. The bump was a little more obvious now, but still small at only three months of pregnancy.

“It’s too faint for you to be able to feel yet, but I bet… within a couple weeks…” she smiled up at him, holding out her hand for his. She rested it above where she could feel the baby moving, giving him the connection even if he couldn’t feel it. None of them spoke much more that night. They took turns holding their hands on Bev’s stomach and speaking softly to their baby while she watched and wiped away tears.

Hours later, when Bev was alone again, she found that she couldn’t stop thinking about the baby inside of her. She and Ben had discussed at length whether or not she should do this for Richie and Eddie. They’d known that it wasn’t something they were even close to ready for. They weren’t even living together yet. But they also both knew that it was something Richie and Eddie really wanted. In the end, Ben had given his blessing for Bev to have their baby, which was what she’d needed for herself before she could fully agree. The last thing she wanted was for this to push him away when she finally had her happy ending.

But now… she couldn’t stop thinking about their relationship. She wanted this with him. She’d never thought of herself as a mother, but the further she got into this pregnancy, the more she realized that she and Ben deserved to have this, too. She could see herself moving in with him, marrying him someday, and having the cutest children. And she wanted it so badly, it felt like an ache in her chest. The worst part was that she just _knew_ she could never say anything about it to anyone. She refused to push them away with this.

**_The Fourth Month_ **

****

_From: SpagEDDIE_

_Okay, but did you take your prenatals today?_

_To: SpagEDDIE_

_Of course. It’s the first thing I do in the morning. I make my coffee, mix in my Bailey’s, and then take my vitamins with it._

_From: SpagEDDIE_

_BEVERLY MARSH_

_To: SpagEDDIE_

_Has anyone ever told you that you worry too much?_

_From: SpagEDDIE_

_Has anyone ever told you that you’re awful?_

_From: SpagEDDIE_

_Don’t forget you’ve got another ultrasound next week! I’ve got six reminders set on my phone. Did you put it on your calendar?_

_To: SpagEDDIE_

_It sounds like I really don’t need to._

_From: SpagEDDIE_

_Of course you need to! It’s YOUR appointment!_

_To: SpagEDDIE_

_Yeah, but you have SIX reminders, and you’re my ride. Besides, it’s not like I’m going to make other plans. You’ve pretty much got me on house arrest._

_From: SpagEDDIE_

_You’re allowed to go out. I would never stop you._

_To: SpagEDDIE_

_Is that a joke? Did Richie break you?_

_From: SpagEDDIE_

_No?_

_To: SpagEDDIE_

_Yeah, Richie broke you._

_From: SpagEDDIE_

_We’re getting ready to leave to come get you._

_To: SpagEDDIE_

_For what?_

_From: SpagEDDIE_

_See, THIS is why I told you to put it on your calendar! I KNEW you were going to forget this appointment!_

_To: SpagEDDIE_

_Oh my god, chill. I was just joking._

_From: SpagEDDIE_

_Just be ready._

_To: SpagEDDIE_

_Roger that._

Eddie was still fussing over Bev when they got to the appointment, and all of the nurses that they passed gave her sympathetic looks. Richie was pretty much ignored completely. One of the nurses even stopped to talk for a second in the middle of Eddie trying to force her to sit down.

“First child?” she asked sympathetically, offering a soft smile to Bev and Eddie. Eddie nodded while Bev tried not to laugh out loud.

“For both of us, yes. He doesn’t seem to understand that I won’t break. Maybe you can make him feel better about it?” she replied, giving her a wide-eyed look over Eddie’s head.

“Pregnant women are actually really resilient. Babies are, too. You’d be surprised how much a fetus can survive, actually,” the nurse tried, winking at Bev.

“They shouldn’t have to be surviving anything!” Eddie snapped, not even glancing over at the nurse. He pulled a bottled water from seemingly nowhere and shoved it into Bev’s hand, gesturing for her to drink it. She just sighed and shook her head at the speechless nurse.

“Okay…” the nurse offered one more (slightly strained) smile before continuing off to do whatever it was she had been heading to do. Bev flicked Eddie’s ear when she was out of sight.

“You do not have an excuse to be rude to the nurses. You are not pregnant,” she reminded him. She gave him a look when he opened his mouth to reply, and he closed it with a frown. “I’m not rude to nurses! You shouldn’t be, either. She was trying to make you feel better. Also, she definitely thought that we were a couple with the way you were treating me.”

“I’m a little surprised she didn’t assume you were her father,” Richie said under his breath, hiding his smirk behind his phone. When Eddie turned to yell at him, Bev flicked him again. Then she reached out and smacked Richie.

“Both of you behave, or I’m not letting you come with me to the next appointment,” she told them sternly. They were both still pouting when their nurse called them back to the room.

“Are we learning the gender today?” the nurse asked, taking Bev’s vitals and sending her to pee in the cup like usual. Nobody answered while Bev went through her tests, and the nurse didn’t ask again. She could probably sense that they hadn’t exactly discussed it. As soon as she left the room, Bev turned to them and raised her eyebrows.

“This is your decision. If you want to know what you’re having, I’ll support you. And if you want to be surprised, I support that, too. I have many gender neutral designs ready to go for more onesies, and I tried to stay neutral with the ones I’ve already given you,” she told them.

“I forgot that we could find out,” Richie admitted, looking sheepish. “But I definitely want to know. I don’t get why some people want it to be a surprise. Isn’t it easier to be prepared if you know what’s coming?”

“Yeah, probably,” Bev agreed.

“I don’t know,” Eddie said slowly. “A surprise might be nice?”

“It’d probably help with your anxiety to find out the gender,” Richie pointed out. “You can look up gender specific things when you’re lecturing Bev. What if boys can have things that girls can’t? Or what if pregnancy is worse for one baby gender than the other? How would we know if we don’t know what we’re having?”

Richie was definitely teasing Eddie, but he seemed to take it seriously. He debated with himself for about thirty more seconds before looking back up at Bev and nodding quickly. She gave them both a bright smile as she laid back in the exam chair and pulled up her shirt. At almost five months, her stomach was getting bigger. The bump was obvious now, and she was maybe a week away from having to switch to maternity pants. She let the two of them rest their hands on the bump without saying a word, shivering as the little one inside of her started to move around. She hadn’t mentioned it yet, but she was almost sure they’d be able to feel the movements any day now. They were getting stronger.

The doctor came in after a few more minutes of waiting, wheeling the ultrasound machine with her. She greeted them with a smile as she got set up, then carefully put the gel on Bev’s stomach and flipped the machine on.

“Are we finding out the gender? The nurse didn’t seem sure,” she asked, glancing at the two men who were already staring at the screen. The heartbeat was loud and strong, which made all of them smile.

“Yes, I think we are,” Bev confirmed, reaching out for their hands. They both took her hands wordlessly, offering silent support.

The doctor moved the wand around on her stomach until she found what she was looking for. Several shifts and clicks of the keyboard later, she started pointing on the monitor. “This is the baby’s head, and this is a foot. See the little arm in front of the face? He’s being shy today,” she told them.

“He?” Richie asked. His voice cracked, and he was very definitely crying. Eddie was silently crying beside him and squeezing Bev’s hand.

“You’re having a boy,” the doctor confirmed, grinning. “He’s completely healthy and growing fast. If I had to guess, I’d say he’s going to come a little early. We can usually see the signs by now. You’ve got absolutely nothing to worry about.”

She printed out the pictures, making sure to give them a couple of copies before leaving the room to let them pull themselves together again. Bev yanked her shirt down and pulled the two of them into a hug, not even bothering to wipe her tears away.

“You’re having a boy! You’re going to have a son!” she exclaimed, laughing softly. “Congratulations, Losers!”

Exactly one week later, she was reading Bill’s latest book on her couch, alone in the house for the first time in almost four months. She’d rested her hand on her stomach, and it took her almost an hour to realize that she could feel the kicking both inside and on her hand. She dropped the book in her haste to get to her phone. She’d dialed Eddie’s number from memory, not even bothering with her contacts. He answered on the second ring.

“I need you to get here as fast as you can! It’s important!” she said quickly, out of breath in her excitement.

“What? What’s wrong?” he replied, slightly louder than she’d expected. She could hear things being thrown around on the other end of the line.

“Just get here!” she insisted. She disconnected the call and tossed her phone onto the table without another thought. It didn’t occur to her that he’d panic, even after she’d hung up the phone. She was so engrossed in the feeling of the tiny baby kicking her palm that she wasn’t thinking about much of anything else.

Eddie and Richie crashed through her door ten minutes later, running into the room in a complete panic. Eddie looked seconds away from a complete meltdown, and Richie didn’t look much better.

“What’s wrong? Do we need to get you to the hospital? We’ve got a bag ready to go, come on,” Eddie was saying, pulling on her arm gently to get her to stand up. She frowned up at them in confusion.

“What are you talking about? I’m not hurt. Nothing is wrong. Give me your hand!” she replied, shifting away from him and snatching his hand from her arm. She moved it to her stomach and held it there, waiting only a few seconds before the baby kicked again.

Eddie had been in the process of lecturing her about giving him a heart attack when he fell completely silent and just stared down at his hand with wide eyes. “That… that was…”

“You can feel him! It just started before I called you. I knew you’d want to feel,” she said quickly, her eyes shining as she looked up at them.

They don’t leave that night. Instead, they all end up in Bev’s bed, taking turns feeling the baby kick until they fall asleep. When they woke up in the morning, Eddie made pancakes as if nothing had happened the night before, and Richie gave Bev the single cup of coffee she was allowed to have that day (in her smallest mug, with no sugar and more creamer than coffee, per Eddie’s instructions and careful monitoring).

**_The Fifth Month_ **

****

“Do you have any pickles?” Bev asked, putting her feet in Richie’s lap. “I kind of really want to dip some pickles in strawberry ice cream.”

All of the Losers were staring at her in varying degrees of horror. Richie placed his hands on her ankles, as if debating shoving her feet away from him. A single look from Eddie had him rethinking that action.

“You shouldn’t have too much ice cream,” Eddie said hesitantly. They’d all been on the receiving end of Bev’s temper in the last week or two. She had the world’s shortest trigger. It was a toss-up on whether or not she’d start shouting or crying, and both were very bad options. This time, she crossed her arms and raised her eyebrow challengingly.

“Are you telling me that you don’t have it, or that _I_ can’t have it?” she asked, her voice dangerously quiet. Eddie and Bev were too distracted by the impending argument to notice Ben slipping out to the kitchen.

“I’m telling you that even if I _did_ have it, _you_ should not,” Eddie countered easily. “Too much sugar is really bad for the baby, and I know for a fact you had donuts this morning.”

“… No I didn’t,” Bev said after a few seconds. Stan appeared to be debating whether or not he wanted to point out the powdered sugar stains on her shirt, but Richie shook his head quickly and he kept his mouth closed.

“Beverly,” Eddie huffed. “We both know that’s a lie. How about an apple, or a banana? Those are both healthy. Or you can even have the pickles without the ice cream.”

“Or you could give me the damn ice cream since I’m carrying your fucking child,” Bev countered, her eyes narrowing dangerously. Eddie’s eyes were narrowing, too.

“You could realize that you should be more careful, since it isn’t _your_ fucking child!” he shot back, his voice raising slowly. “That is _our_ child, and you should be taking better care of yourself!”

“Do you honestly believe I would do anything at all to endanger this child, _Edward_? I’m very aware that this isn’t my child, you asshole. I have been nothing but careful for you. I’ve counted every damn calory and taken every damn vitamin and supplement you’ve sent my way. And don’t think I don’t notice the new ones appearing in my house every other day! I take them without saying a fucking word! I’ve called for help any time I’ve done anything on your damn list of dangerous things, and I haven’t even gotten into my own fucking car in four goddamn months! So don’t you _dare_ tell me that I need to take better care of myself!” she shouted back.

The room was completely silent. None of the Losers could meet Bev’s eyes, including Eddie himself. He’d been stunned speechless by her yelling. Bev was breathing heavily from her shouting, and the silence made it sound twice as loud. With a soft sound, she pushed off of the couch and stormed out of the room, trying to hide her tears from everyone.

Richie met Eddie’s eyes as soon as she was gone, and they shared a long look. Richie shook his head silently, and Eddie sighed. Without a single word, he went to the kitchen, where he found Ben arranging pickles beside a small bowl of strawberry ice cream.

“You spoil her,” Eddie pointed out without heat. Ben gave him a small, amused smile.

“It’s what you do for the people you love,” he pointed out gently, offering him the bowl.

“Yeah,” Eddie agreed, taking the bowl. “Thanks for this.”

“She needs it from you more than she needs it from me,” Ben told him, nudging his arm with his shoulder gently as he passed. “She goes out to the patio when she’s stressed. Usually it’s to smoke, but lately it’s been to stare at the clouds and cry. Don’t hurt her.”

“I won’t,” Eddie assured him, already heading for the back door.

Eddie found Bev exactly when Ben said she’d be. She was sitting on the swing on the back patio, staring up at the clouds and wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. She stiffened when she heard the door closed, but she didn’t look over at him. He sat down beside her on the swing and wordlessly held out the bowl of ice cream. She didn’t take it.

“I’m not going to apologize,” she said softly, her hands clenched into fists on her lap. “I wasn’t wrong. Maybe I shouldn’t have shouted, but I am not the one in the wrong here.”

“You’re not,” he agreed easily. “I know you’re taking care of yourself, Bev. I wouldn’t trust anyone else in the world with our baby, you know that. I know you’ve been careful, and I know you’ve been doing all the things I ask you to do, even when you think they’re stupid. I didn’t mean to imply that you would harm the baby. I’m so sorry.”

“Why did you trust me with this?” she asked, finally looking over at him. He met her eyes easily, offering the bowl again. She accepted it this time.

“Because we love you,” he told her. There wasn’t more to add; it was as simple as that. They’d trust her with their lives, and the lives of their children, because they loved her.

“I love you too,” she sighed. She set the bowl aside and twisted to hug him, ignoring how uncomfortable the movement made her. They hugged for a long time, neither of them breaking the silence. When they pulled apart, Bev silently picked the bowl back up and began the process of dipping the pickles into the ice cream. Eddie wrinkled his nose, but didn’t say another word against it.

**_The Sixth Month_ **

****

_To: SpagEDDIE_

_Are you awake?_

_To: SpagEDDIE_

_Please be awake_

_To: SpagEDDIE_

_WAKE THE FUCK UP_

_To: RichieRich_

_Are YOU awake?_

_To: RichieRich_

_Why is NOBODY AWAKE_

_Outgoing call: RichieRich_

Richie’s voice was groggy when he answered the phone, and she’d definitely woken him up. It only made her cry harder. “Bev? What’s going- are you okay?”

“I… I’m fine. Go back to sleep,” she told him, her voice shaking in the obvious way that crying caused. She winced, hoping he’d be too tired to notice. He was not.

“Are you crying?” he asked, sounding more awake now. She could hear movement in the background that meant he was waking Eddie up. She sniffled quietly, trying to hide it from them. It didn’t work.

“Is that Bev?” Eddie asked tiredly. He must have checked his phone, because the noises in the background suddenly got louder. “Is she crying? Oh my god, she’s crying. C’mon, Rich, _move_. Grab the keys, we need to go!”

“No! No, I’m okay. I just… I couldn’t sleep, so I was looking up baby videos, and this one is crawling, and I… you guys are having a baby! And I’m so fucking happy for you, I just needed you to know that,” she sobbed, clutching her phone tightly. “When he rolled over, I just…”

“It’s okay, Bevvie. We’re on our way. You just sit tight,” Richie assured her. He was moving now, she could tell. “Do you want me to stay on the line?”

“No, it’s okay. You don’t have to come over,” she said quietly, trying to pull herself together. She heard him laughing softly on the other end, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, Eddie chimed in.

“Of fucking course we’re coming over. You need us,” he said, as if it was the simplest thing in the world. And maybe it was.

**_The Seventh Month_ **

****

“Hold still!” the photographer called, straightening his camera. This was the second hour of the maternity photo shoot that Stan and Bill had booked them as a surprise. The first hour had been Bev and Eddie posing together, looking sophisticated and beautiful in every photo. The photographer hadn’t complained abut a single thing. The second hour was supposed to be Richie and Bev doing the same poses, but the two of them couldn’t concentrate long enough to get a single good photo. They were cracking each other up and making faces at the camera. At the rate they were going, they wouldn’t be able to get any photos of the three of them together before the time was up.

“Please, guys, just this once can’t you take something seriously?” Eddie demanded, crossing his arms in annoyance. “Don’t you want to have nice photos to look back on?”

“Of course we do,” Bev giggled. “But you can’t go through life without having fun, Eddie. You may as well not do anything at all if you’re going to live like that.”

Richie was standing behind her with his arms around her, his hands forming a misshapen heart over the baby bump. He couldn’t get the heart right, no matter how many times Bev and Eddie tried to correct him, so they’d given up and let him do whatever he wanted. And apparently what he wanted was to make Bev laugh right before the camera went off every single time.

“Fine, fine, we’ll do a serious one,” Richie agreed, grinning easily at Eddie. “Then we can get the pictures of all of us together and call it a day.”

“Alright, on three,” the photographer called, lining up the shot. “One, two-“

Just as the photographer took the shot, Bev started to laugh again, which set Richie off instantly. The photographer sighed in annoyance, but paused when he looked at the shot he’d taken. “Actually, this one isn’t bad. And I think it captures your… spirit. We’ll use it.”

A few days later, when the photographer sent them the fully edited and completed photos, they all had to agree that the candid one of Richie and Bev laughing had turned out best. Eddie was extremely annoyed about it.

**_The Eighth Month_ **

She was with Ben when the first twinge of pain hit. It started in her lower back, and she shifted in her seat uneasily. She’d been sore lately, so she didn’t think anything of it. In the last two weeks, her stomach had doubled in size. The bump was now the size of a basketball, and she looked ready to pop. She’d caught Ben looking at her adoringly more than a few times in the last few days, and it was making her feel overly emotional.

Shifting around did seem to make the pain go away for a little while. She sighed as Ben rubbed her shoulders, and they continued to watch their movie without another problem. It was when she got up to get a glass of water that the _real_ pain hit her. It nearly dropped her to her knees, and she definitely made some kind of noise. Ben was instantly beside her, supporting her weight and helping her to sit back down. The pain lasted about thirty seconds, then faded away to nothing.

“What happened?” Ben asked, looking her over worriedly.

“I’m not sure,” she admitted. “I’ve been sore lately. Maybe I just stood up too fast? The weirdest things make me hurt or nauseous lately. The doctor says it’s normal.”

“If you’re sure,” he replied, but he didn’t sound very sure himself. He got the water for her himself, and they both let it go.

It happened again about ten minutes later. This time, she didn’t try to get up. She hadn’t moved at all. The pain was so sudden and intense that she dropped her glass. It shattered on the floor in front of the couch as she doubled over and clutched at the baby bump. It was indescribable, and not something she had ever experienced before. It lasted just over a minute this time, and Ben was on the phone when she could finally straighten back up.

“I’m not sure what’s happening, but it’s the second time that I know of. I think something is wrong, and I don’t know how to help,” he was saying to whoever was on the other line.

“Third,” Bev told him softly, rubbing small circles into the bump soothingly, as if the baby inside could feel her.

“Third time,” Ben corrected. “Yeah, she’s sitting on the couch. She hasn’t gotten up in a couple hours, other than when she tried to go get water. No, no heavy lifting. No unnecessary stress. _Eddie_.”

She would have wondered what Eddie had said, but the dark blush on Ben’s face gave it away, and she was completely sure that she was also blushing. He glanced over at her as he listened to whatever Eddie was saying, and nodded silently to himself. “I’ll get a bag packed. You really think so? Okay. Yeah. We’ll be ready.”

When he hung up the phone, she was looking at him expectantly. “Eddie thinks you might be going into early labor,” he told her gently, brushing the hair out of her eyes. “I’m going to pack you a bag to take to the hospital, just in case he’s right. But first I’m going to clean up the glass so you don’t have to worry if you need to get up. Eddie and Richie are coming to pick us up. I’m going to guess they’ll be here very shortly, because Eddie is already panicking and I’m pretty sure Richie broke his phone when he heard Eddie say labor.”

“It’s too early,” Bev said quickly, her eyes widening in panic. “I can’t be in labor, Ben! It’s too fucking early!”

“It’ll be okay,” he assured her. “We’re going to get you to the hospital, and they’ll be able to tell us what’s going on. If you _are_ in labor, you’ll be in good hands. And if you aren’t, they can fix whatever is wrong. Don’t panic. We’re going to take care of this.”

Ben cleaned up the glass as quickly and efficiently as he could while Bev watched, clutching the baby bump and occasionally muttering reassurances to the baby growing inside of her. He packed the bag but didn’t tell her what was inside, which was probably for the best. She caught herself several times before she could remind him to pack things, because she trusted him and didn’t want to distract him and make him forget other important things. He was putting the bag by the door when they heard the car screech to a stop outside.

Ben hurried to Bev’s side when she started to hyperventilate, rubbing her back soothingly. Eddie was the first one through the door, and that was how he found them. “Bev! Are you okay? Tell me you’re okay!”

“I’m fine,” she assured him. Then she immediately groaned in pain, doubling over again and clutching at Ben’s hand. Ben kindly didn’t make a sound as she squeezed, letting her use him as support through what she was _not_ calling a contraction in her mind. When she could concentrate again, she was being carried out to Richie’s car while the man himself circled around them to try to make sure that Bev and the baby were okay. Ben nearly tripped over him more than once because Richie couldn’t seem to settle on where he wanted to be. He ended up in the backseat with Bev, his hands moving from her stomach to her hair to her hands in a flurry of pure panic.

“Are you oaky? You’re going to be okay! Everything will be okay. This is early right? Is it too early? It’s too early! What do we do?” he was saying, mostly to himself. Ben turned from the passenger seat and reached back for Bev’s hand, which she gave him instantly. Richie made a quietly distressed sound, pressing his hand to her stomach again. He seemed reassured for a few seconds when the baby kicked, but that faded when Bev made a pained sound. “Oh god, am I hurting you?”

“Richie!” Eddie called from the driver’s seat, sounding exasperated. “You’ve got to let her breathe. It’s going to be okay. That’s why we’re going to the hospital now.”

“Yeah, but she’s hurting! How do we help _now_?” Richie shot back.

“We don’t,” Eddie admitted. “We make her comfortable and get her to the hospital as fast as we can.”

The rest of the ride was mostly silent, only broken by Bev’s pained gasped and Richie’s panicked sounds. Eddie let them out at the hospital entrance so they wouldn’t have to carry Bev far, and Ben scooped her up easily. Richie didn’t even make a joke about Ben being ripped, which Bev knew meant he was too panicked to be any actual help. Ben carried her inside, and a nurse appeared almost immediately with a wheelchair.

“Can she walk?” the nurse asked, disregarding Bev since she wasn’t on her own two feet. It was a mistake.

“Yes, _she_ can,” Bev snapped as Ben lowered her to her own two feet. She resolutely did not flinch when the next wave of pain hit her, glaring at the nurse challengingly.

“… Alright. What seems to be the problem?” the nurse asked, taking a small step back. The wheelchair remained between them, almost as a challenge.

“She’s having contractions,” Eddie informed the nurse, skidding to a stop beside Bev and Richie just as she finished speaking.

“Maybe,” Bev added quickly. “It’s two early. I’m only thirty-one weeks along.”

“Well, let’s get you to a room. It’s probably not really labor,” the nurse told them calmly. She gave the wheelchair one last pointed glance that Bev ignored, and she led the way to the room the nurse was indicating without a backwards glance.

As soon as the door was closed and the nurse could no longer see her, Bev nearly collapsed into Ben’s arms. “Shit! This is more intense than I was expecting,” she admitted. She let Ben help her into the exam chair, getting situated just as the doctor came into the room.

“Lay back and spread your legs, please,” he said, gesturing for the men to leave the room. They ignored him, and he simply sighed when Bev glared. “Gentlemen, you’ll need to stay back and give her some privacy for this.”

He carefully inspected her before allowing her to sit back up and adjust her clothing. “There’s nothing to worry about,” he assured her. “You’re not in labor. These are called Braxton Hicks contractions, and they’re harmless. They’ll hurt, but they’ll go away. By tomorrow morning, you won’t be in any more pain. They may occur again before your actual labor, but they really are harmless.”

“They don’t _feel_ harmless,” she assured him, glaring again. “So there’s nothing to be done?”

“I’m sorry. Tylenol might help the pain a little, but the solution is just to wait for them to pass. There’s nothing I can give you,” he replied. To his credit, he really did look sorry. “We’ll have you stay for an hour more and make sure that nothing is going to happen, but then you’re free to return home.”

An hour later, it was confirmed that Bev truly was not in labor. Richie hadn’t really stopped panicking, but he’d stopped asking questions. He just hovered around her and made sure she wasn’t moving too much or doing anything unnecessary. Eddie was watching him fondly, occasionally pulling him away to comfort him. As soon as he’d been told the contractions weren’t labor, he’d calmed down considerably. He seemed to find Richie’s reaction adorable, which annoyed Bev to no end.

Ben stayed by her side the whole time, holding her hand and never once complaining when she squeezed too hard. He stayed close to her on their way out, but he didn’t even attempt to pick her back up, which she appreciated. He was the only one who hadn’t started to treat her like glass. Even Bill and Stan were hard to be around with their hovering at that point.

Instead of just dropping her off and going home, Richie and Eddie insisted on staying with her through the night. She didn’t have the energy to argue with them. They took her spare room while Ben stayed with her in her own. They were not subtle in checking on her through the night, but she didn’t say a word each time.

The fourth time she had Braxton Hicks contractions, she didn’t say a single word. Eddie had been hovering more in the last two weeks since the first close call, and she’d been sent to the hospital twice that week alone. She _would not_ be going to the hospital again! Each time a contraction hit, her eyes tightened, but she very carefully gave no other indication of pain. It was a skill she’d developed at a young age, unfortunately.

Equally unfortunately, Richie shared that skill with her. He noticed the very first time she stiffened up for a few seconds before forcing herself to relax into the pain. He would have spoken up, but he could see the panic in her eyes as she glanced over at Eddie, and he instantly understood. Instead of ratting her out, he walked over and took her hand, giving it a squeeze encouragingly. She took the hint, squeezing his hand tightly when the next one hit. She gave no other indication of pain, and Eddie didn’t notice at all.

When he came back into the room and found Richie and Bev holding hands, he just rolled his eyes and dropped into the chair across from them. “Are you guys plotting something again? Should I be worried?”

“Nah, we’re just being ‘weird and codependent’,” Richie quoted, smirking over at Eddie, who rolled his eyes again.

“You _are_ ,” he insisted calmly. “We all think so.”

“If you say so,” Bev laughed, relaxing her hand as the contraction passed. She smiled over at Richie gratefully, and he shot her a wink in return.

When Eddie left to go to work, Bev turned to Richie to thank him. “I understand that Eddie just wants everything to be okay, but every time he takes me to the hospital… it feels more… I don’t know, real, I guess? And if the fake contractions are this bad, Richie, how am I going to get through labor?”

“You’re strong, Ms. Marsh. Probably the strongest of us all,” he told her gently. “If anyone can handle this, it will be you.”

**_The Ninth Month_ **

****

Bev was reading one of the many pregnancy books that Stan had left around the house when she felt the familiar twinge of pain in her lower back. She closed her book with a groan, knowing she wouldn’t be able to concentrate when the pain _really_ started. It was her thirty-eighth week, and she was ready to be done with all of this.

She made her way to the bedroom, where Ben was taking a nap. Without a word, she laid down beside him and closed her eyes. She’d found it was easiest to ride out the pain curled up in her own bed. She couldn’t quite get to sleep, but she was dozing through a particularly painful contraction when Ben’s hand landed on her shoulder.

“Bev, I think something is wrong,” he said softly, trying not to panic her.

“Mm, no, it’s just a stupid Braxton Hicks,” she told him, not bothering to open her eyes. “Just go back to sleep, honey. It’ll pass.”

“No, I don’t think it is,” he said quickly. “The bed is wet.”

“The bed is _what_?” she asked, opening her eyes quickly. Now that she was concentrating on it, she could feel the squishy wetness of the sheets beneath her. “ _Shit_!”

“It’s okay! Come on, your bag is already packed, remember? We’ll call Richie and Eddie from the car. They can meet us at the hospital. It’ll all be fine!” he told her, helping her sit up. “Do you want me to carry you?”

“Yes, please,” she whispered. She didn’t think she could walk even if she wanted to, she was so shocked and scared. She’d given a lot of thought to what labor would be like, but it still hadn’t felt quite real. Now, looking back at the large wet patch on the bed that meant her water had broken, she felt a panic unlike any other filling her. She tried to force it down before it showed, not wanting to worry Ben. And she knew from experience that if she was panicking, it would make both Richie and Eddie panic even worse.

“I’ll call them,” she told Ben, already pulling her phone out. “You just concentrate on getting us there. The contractions are still pretty far apart, and from everything I’ve read, that means I’ve got time.”

Ben pulled out of her driveway quickly, definitely breaking at least one traffic law as Beverly hit the contacts button and called Eddie. He answered quickly.

“Bev? It’s pretty late. Are you okay?” he asked, sounding distracted. She _really_ didn’t want to know what he’d been doing.

“Um… yeah. Ben is driving me to the hospital, actually. My water broke,” she told him, trying to keep her voice steady and calm. Ben glanced over at her with a small smile, clearly guessing exactly what she was doing.

“ _What?_ ” Eddie gasped. “Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure. I don’t make it a habit to pee on my sheets,” she assured him. “I’ve been having contractions for almost two hours. My water broke maybe twenty minutes ago? The contractions are still pretty far apart, but we’re headed to the hospital anyways. Meet us there?”

“We’re going to beat you there,” he promised.

“Yeah, I doubt that,” she grinned.

They arrived at the hospital at exactly the same time. Richie helped Bev into the lobby this time, because she didn’t want to be carried in and Ben needed to park the car anyways. This time, she accepted the offered wheelchair. Eddie caught up just as they were about to go through the double doors, Ben hot on his heels. Richie held her hand tightly, both of them squeezing nervously.

“I called the others,” he told her quietly as they made their way to her room. “They’ll be here before he’s born, but they won’t be in the room. You get to choose who you want in there with you. And Eddie and I talked about it, and we understand if you’re not comfortable with us being there.”

“You’re an idiot,” she told him, rolling his eyes. “This is _your_ baby, of course you’re going to be in the room. You get to hold him first!”

“I’m pretty sure that should be your privilege,” Eddie protested weakly, but he was smiling at the very thought of holding his son. It only made her more confident in her decision.

“Nope. I’m the aunt, not the mom,” she reminded them. “You get first dibs at holding your son. I’ll hold my nephew when you’re done, and not before then.”

“I hate to interrupt, but you need to decide now if you’d like an epidural,” the nurse interrupted, indicating that Eddie should close the door behind him. The room was bigger than an average hospital room, and a little nicer. New mothers had privileges, it seemed.

“No,” she told the nurse. She didn’t need to think about it, because she’d already given it quite a bit of thought.

“No?” Richie echoed, his voice sounding hoarse. “You’re going to do this without drugs?”

“I don’t need them, and neither does the baby,” Bev said softly, looking over at Eddie as she spoke. “It’ll be fine. I’ve been feeling this pain for a month now, right? What’s a couple more hours.”

“Months?” Eddie asked, frowning. “You told me it only happened twice!”

“Well, I lied,” she shrugged, not apologetic at all. “And I would do it again in a heartbeat. There was nothing to worry about! Can we maybe concentrate on the _actual labor_ that is happening _right now_?”

Five and a half hours later, Bev laid back in the bed panting as a baby’s crying filled the air in the room. She smiled softly, letting herself relax as the doctor and nurses began the process of cleaning up. She didn’t move when Richie let go of her hand to take the offered baby boy. She did allow Ben to help her sit up after a few minutes so she could see what was happening in the room. The doctor had cleared the nurses out of the room, and Richie and Eddie were huddled together at the end of Bev’s hospital bed, cooing down at the little boy in Richie’s arms.

“Skylar,” Eddie told her, looking up to meet her eyes. “What middle name did you settle on?”

They’d told her what they wanted to name the baby three weeks after they discovered the gender, and had told her that they wanted her to choose the middle name since she was carrying him for them. She’d thought it over for a long time, trying to decide what sounded best, and the last they’d been informed, she was stuck between two names. She was proud to be able to tell them that she’d chosen the perfect one.

“Welcome to the world, Skylar Ash Kaspbrak-Tozier,” she said softly, smiling at the family of three.

**_Epilogue_ **

****

Bev was holding her nephew when Stan stormed into the room clutching a piece of fabric in his hand. She didn’t bother looking up when he stopped in front of her, too busy giving Skylar his bottle to really care what had Stan in such a bad mood.

“What is this?” he demanded after a full minute of being ignored. She still didn’t look up, because she knew what he _was_ referring to.

“This is a baby, Stan. Haven’t you ever seen one before? I could have sworn you were holding him earlier,” she told him, feigning ignorance.

“Not the baby!” Stan snapped, waving the fabric in her face. “ _This_!”

“Oh, that? That appears to be a onesie,” she replied, finally looking up to give him an innocent smile. The three-month-old baby in her arms made a happy cooing sound. “Why?”

“You know why!” he glared, finally lowering the offending onesie. It was bright purple and embroidered with little birds and binoculars.

“I’m quite sure that I don’t,” she told him calmly.

“I found this _in my house_ this morning! Just like all the ones you hid for Richie and Eddie last year!” he informed her, still glaring.

“Ah, I see. And you think it was me?” she asked, rocking the baby slowly.

“I _know_ it was you. It’s your brand!” he shot back angrily. “Why are you doing this?”

“It is absolutely one of my creations,” she agreed easily, not even glancing down at it. “But I didn’t do anything beyond make it. I can promise you that.”

“Then who did?” Stan demanded.

“I did,” Eddie informed him, entering the room from the kitchen. “I thought maybe it was about time you and Bill took the next step, you know? A little nudge helped me and Richie, so I figured it couldn’t hurt for you.”

“What- Eddie!” Stan sputtered, turning to stare at him as if he had a second head.

“Well, what do you say? Are you and Bill ready to have a baby?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There may be a Stenbrough sequel in the very near future!


End file.
